


A Walking Burlap Sack of Turds

by kittenmittens



Category: Hunter X Hunter, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, Voltron: Legendary Defender, Young Justice (Cartoon), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Crossdressing, F/M, Gen, M/M, Male Lactation, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-18 17:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 27
Words: 18,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9396062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenmittens/pseuds/kittenmittens
Summary: Basically a bunch of short fics written for this game my friend and I do where we write each other oddly specific shit we wanna see. So this will contain various fandoms, various (but mostly the same) kinks, and various pairings. This is my first "dump a bunch of little fics" entry on this site and I honestly loathe seeing my searches clogged with fics that have about 200+ tags between the title and summary so the tags on here will be sparce. If you want to see more specific summaries, I'll try and make the content clear in the chapter names and notes.EVERYTHING IS UNEDITED AF. There will probably be a few spelling errors and run on sentences, so don't expect the Odyssey of weirdly specific fetish drabbles.





	1. Older!Link/Linebeck, Mpreg Smut

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Your_Bones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Your_Bones/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much just some Older!Link/Linebeck smut with Mpreg!Link

 

"You're sure you wanna... " Linebeck blinks slowly, feeling kind of like brain-dead fish.  "... With me?" He is sort of floundering, at least in this situation. Which is totally uncharacteristic of himself, and he knows it, but who can blame him! The kid just set up this whole romantic display in his cabin, and now he's laid out on the comforter like one of those boudoir photos! And Linebeck hates admitting it, but the effect it's having on him's a little too... _intended._

 

"Uh-huh!" Link just nods, smiling, then ducking his head, kinda like he's shy. Hell, maybe he is-- Linebeck's just not sure what to think when the kid acts like this. He's always running into dungeons and hordes of monsters and letting everybody boss him around without thinking twice; nothing seems to make him embarrassed! Nothing except this, apparently. "I, uh..." Linebeck watches as the little guy-- even though he sure isn't as little as he used to be, especially in the parts that count-- shifts around, his shoulder sinking towards the mattress and the neckline of his half-buttoned shirt slips down. When Link blushes, even his cleavage gets pink, and it takes Linebeck too damn long to realize he's been staring. "I really like you." 

 

"Can't, uh..." Linebeck clears his throat and adjusts his scarf, turning away from the bed."Can't really blame you." Well, shit. Linebeck's not so sure how this curse happened, but if the conception part was close to being... traditional, it won't mean Linebeck will've been Link's first. Which will mean he won't have to feel like a _complete_ scumbag, anyway. And, turns out, he needs an embarrassingly small amount of encouragement before he climbs on that bed, clambering over Link and propping himself up on all fours. He ends up staring into those sea-blue eyes for a second before giving the kid the most tender, chaste little kiss he can stomach.

 

It's all so Link can pull away at any time. If he changes his mind-- or, more likely, comes to his senses, it won't be hard for him to get away. But the kid's always surprising him, and tonight's not any different. Link does pretty much the opposite of leaning back, throwing his arms around Linebeck's shoulders and kissing him deeply. Linebeck shivers, slipping one hand up over Link's round belly, rubbing at it gingerly through the thin fabric before fumbling with the buttons. And there's another thing he never would've pegged himself as being into, but as soon as that shirt's hanging open, Linebeck ducks down even lower, planting kiss after kiss on the taut, smooth surface. 

 

The kid's gotten so round and full-looking; even the way he walks has started to look ridiculous. But he carries it well, and it's sorta like his body evened him out a bit so it'd seem like he was more suited to the process. Linebeck runs his palm over Link's hips-- a hell of a lot softer than they would've been before, and perfectly round-- then up to his chest, which, while not ridiculous by any means, is still plenty full and silky soft. He moans, kissing between Link's breasts and slowly tugging his little wrap down, guiding one rosy pink nipple into his mouth. 

 

Link squeaks, and _shit_ , it's adorable. That noise alone may have just made it all worth it. Linebeck lets go and cups Link's plump rear, pulling him onto his lap as he leans back against the pile of pillows. While the kid's legs are still holding him up a bit, Linebeck tugs his underwear down, then fumbles impatiently with his own belt, yanking it off with trembling hands and then wriggling out of his pants. Link doesn't give him a chance to think-- he's just as ready as Linebeck apparently is, sinking down onto his length easily. 

 

Linebeck groans, arching his back and nosing against Link's chest before latching back on again, pursing his lips and rolling his tongue, making a eager noise when he tastes something thin and sweet. He keeps his hands on either side of the kid's belly, slowly starting to rock his hips. Link makes these soft little gasps, hands digging into Linebeck's shoulders, head dropping to rest against his...

 

Goddesses, it's amazing. And Linebeck's never been good at resisting temptation-- even though it's a little bit late for that, anyway. He drags his tongue over Link's chest one last time, then buries his face in the crook of his shoulder, tugging him close he can, grinding his hips against the kid quickly and struggling as he tries not to hurt him. It's no time at all until they're both climaxing, Link shaking in his grip and Linebeck's muscles tightening in his limbs until he's hunched around the kid's form. Then, slowly, bit by bit, they both go limp. Linebeck sinks onto his side, guiding Link with him and throwing an arm around him as a half-assed... Well, maybe something like an apology.

 

"Thanks, Linebeck." It sounds like the kid's as breathless and dizzy as he is, and when he looks up, he gets a doofy smile to confirm it.

 

"You know what, kid?" Linebeck leers tiredly, curling his fingers against Link's flushed cheek. "Anytime."


	2. Zant/Link Mpreg Rapid Preg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic-ish Zant/Link with Zant messing with Link via rapid preg magicks.

"Hero," Zant murmurs. He slides his cool hand along the side of Link's neck before trying to tug him down to his level.

 

"Stop it." Link groans, straining against Zant's grip as he tries to get up. "I've got work to do, and even if I didn't, I wouldn't want to lounge around in bed like a spoiled... " He makes a face. "Whatever you are."

 

"You're no fun," Zant whines.  "What if I gave you some incentive?" He presses his thin lips against Link's shoulder and Link wrinkles his nose. "Made it... difficult for you to leave." 

 

"You're not gonna tie me to the bed, are you?" They both know Zant doesn't have any hope of physically overpowering Link, but Link's still more than a little suspicious. 

 

"No, no." Zant's hands settle on his waist and Link goes still despite himself. "What kind of brute do you take me for?" One spidery hand slides up under his tunic, pinching his skin lightly before Link can stop it. "I do have some tact. And a few ideas." 

 

"What are you... ?" Link mumbles, then sputters, one hand flying to rest on his stomach as soon as Zant pulls his arm away. There's this weird, burning sensation spreading through his skin, and Link knows something's off the moment he feels it. Seconds later, he feels his middle brushing against the fabric of his tunic in a way it didn't before-- then it starts outright straining against it. When he yelps and falls backwards onto his rear, his stomach stays puffed out, starting to look a little like Rusl's less-toned midsection. "What'd you do!?" 

 

"Nothing much." Zant insists, sitting up and crawling over to Link with an infuriating leer on his face. "The idea just came to me, and I thought I'd run with it."

 

"'Run with it?'" Link growls under his breath, glancing down at himself, then up at Zant, then back again. Every time he looks down, it seems like he's bigger! "I'm gonna murder you!"

 

"Come now!" Zant insists, rubbing Link's generous potbelly. When Zant touches it, Link can feel that it's firm, and heavy, and the more time passes, the more the burning feeling spreads to his chest. "You're in a delicate condition, you shouldn't strain yourself. "

 

"ZANT!" Link scrambles away until he's pressed against the foot board, hands cupping the sides of his belly, like he can control the way it's filling out. A horrified gasp catches in his throat, and he shifts one hand to his chest, wincing at the heavy, squishy feeling. "WHAT'D YOU DO!?"

 

"It's just a glamour spell!" Zant smiles, closing in on Link again. Which works just fine, because it's a perfect position for Link to punch him straight in the nose. "GUH!" Zant swallows, pawing at his face. "D-Don't be like that! It's only meant to make you appear pregnant." 

 

Link groans, aiming to kick Zant straight in the crotch, then freezes and makes a horrified choking noise. "Z-Zant?"

 

Zant's voice is muffled as he clutches his already-swollen nose. "Yes?"

 

Link's face goes utterly blank and turns ghost white. "... Something's moving." 


	3. Gon/Killua, Little Bit Beastly Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon/Killua smut, post mpreg/post baby, impregnation fetish on Gon's part, animalistic features and Gon in heat

"Killua..." Gon's panting really hard, and he can't seem to stop himself lately. Ears flattening against his head, he arches his back, writhing a few quick times on the mattress before going still. When Killua steps up to him, he starts thumping his tail against the covers, unable to hide how excited he is. 

 

"Yeah, I'm here." Killua drops onto the bed, making the whole thing shake, and Gon's stomach does this thrilled little dropping thing. Whining happily, he lifts himself up just enough to meet Killua for a kiss, then lets the other boy bend down with him to prolong it. It almost hurts when he pulls away, and Gon whimpers again, rolling his hips impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, I know." Killua smooths his hair back and Gon leans into the touch happily. It's not what he's waiting for, but it's still pretty nice. "Hey, you're still too brain-fried to really get what I'm saying right now, but I'm gonna use protection. Noooot that you're gonna notice. Or care." 

 

Gon zones out a little for that last part, then yips eagerly when Killua's done talking. "Killuaaaaaa." His tail starts wagging even faster when the other boy slowly drags his shorts down, and he reaches out to clumsily yank Killua's boxers to his knees. Wrapping his arms around the other boy's broad shoulders, Gon pulls him down again, kissing him so deeply he feels a little breathless. Killua doesn't really waste any time-- that's why Gon loves him so much! Barely even pausing, he just lifts Gon's rear up slightly and slowly inches inside him. 

 

Gon yips in pure bliss, rolling his hips and basking in the overwhelming feeling of... _wonderful-ness_! Killua kisses at his neck and kneads his chest in one big hand, and Gon's so happy right now, he wants to cry! Soon, Gon's belly will get big again and he'll be heavy and slow and cozy and excited, and his chest will be tender and sensitive, and when they do this, and he's like that, it'll feel even better. Especially with Killua touching him all over, and kissing at his big, heavy belly. And after that, they'll get to have another baby! Maybe more than one! Gon hopes it's more than one. He's so excited for all of that, and for this, that he can hardly breathe.

 

Thinking that way helps a lot, and it's no time at all until Gon's climaxing. He jerks his hips slower and slower, keeping up as Killua ruts against him bit by bit, his sharp teeth grazing against his shoulders in a way that's sudden, and a big surprise. It hurt just a little, but it feels way too good for Gon to mind. By the time he's done riding out the dizzy, irresistible waves of feeling, and after he's done trembling with the aftershocks, he's practically melting into the mattress, tail tip twitching contentedly. It's the closest he can come to a wag with how tired he suddenly is! Killua kisses him gingerly on the forehead, squeezing his shoulder before slowly getting up.

 

Gon yawns, curling up slightly. He sure hopes Killua's ready to go again when he wakes up-- he wants to make sure he's going to be a mom again. 


	4. Link/Linebeck, Mpreg, Sorta Gen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Older!Link/Linebeck, Mpreg, Link tries to save Linebeck from monsters while pregnant, Linebeck actually stops being a wuss for two seconds

"Don't worry, Linebeck!" 

 

Linebeck feels all the blood drain out of his face, Plus the sensation of his stomach dropping right out of his body. And maybe his bladder failing just the tiniest, littlest bit. Which is understandable, because the idea of Link coming to his aid right now just about scares the piss out of him. Sputtering, he glances back, watches Link scramble across the shore for a second, then smacks at the moblin twice as frantically. "Damn it, kid! GET LOST!" 

 

"It's okay!" Link's got his sword raised up over his head-- Linebeck's still not sure why he hasn't hidden the damn thing already-- and is doing the best imitation of a charge he can manage with that massive belly weighing him down. "I'll protect you!"

 

"SHIT!" He's for real, isn't he? Oh, who's Linebeck kidding-- the kid _still_ doesn't fully comprehend sarcasm after all these years, and even if he did, he'd know this isn't the time or place for it. Nope-- he's one hundred percent genuine, just like he is every day. "You're gonna lose your head!" Linebeck screeches, barely managing to duck out of the way as the moblin slashes at him and almost makes that line a reality. "Just get OUTTA HERE!"  But the kid just keeps coming, and suddenly, in a fit of panic, Linebeck turns again and moves to gets closer to the sweaty, panting thing in front of him. Closer than he ever wanted to come in a million years, before driving his scabbard deep into its guts til it lets out a nasty wheezing sound and keels over. 

 

Panting, Linebeck stares in shock at the corpse in front of him, listening as Link's footsteps slow down enough to stop making the sand squeak. He... What the.... What the _hell_ was he thinking?! That thing almost killed him! Sure, Link's in a family way and folks like that shouldn't be fighting, but at least Link's used to slaying these things! It would've barely counted as dangerous for him, now that Linebeck thinks about it-- but in Linebeck's case, he was signing his own death certificate when he challenged that monstrosity!

 

"Wow, Linebeck!" 

 

He turns around to see Link beaming at him, one hand clutching his belly as he smiles breathlessly. 

 

"I, uh... " Linebeck swallows. "Whuh?"

 

"You really did it!" The kid looks like he'd be jumping for joy if he could still manage to do it physically. Thank the Goddesses that, among other things, that's out of the question now. "You really beat it." He throws his arms around Linebeck without warning, and Linebeck's heart does this idiotic little flutter. Even after a few years and a lot of growing time, the kid still barely comes up to his shoulder. "That was so brave... "

 

With anybody else, there'd be a tacked on "for you", or they'd just be flat out unimpressed. Not Link, though. And that's why Linebeck keeps him around. Snorting, he wraps his hugs the kid in return, giving him a little squeeze. "What can I say?" he croons. "Guess it's just in my nature."  


	5. Mama Jim + Baby Argh, Post Mpreg, Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim basically being baby Argh's mom. And I can't bear to spell it Aaarrrggghhh in writing; I know it's not accurate but it hurts my soul to have to type that out so just deal okay?

Jim frowns in his sleep, tugging on his blanket as he turns over. It's gotta be stuck on something, though. Every time he yanks on it, it feels like it covers less and less of his body. And he doesn't want to get up-- he _really_ doesn't want to get up-- but he's way too cold without his blanket, so, eventually, he has to sit up, squinting in the dim morning light, and figure out what happened. Bending forward, he feels around for the foot of his bed, then furrows his brow when he feels something warm and solid by his feet. Frowning, he gives the blanket a small tug, then raises his eyebrows.

 

"Argh?" 

 

It takes him a second to realize the blanket's wedged in the little guy's mouth, and when Jim's eyes adjust to the dark and he actually _sees_ that, he lets out a horrified gasp. The blanket's not just in Argh's mouth-- half of it's already down his little throat!

 

"Oh, no," Jim whispers, slowly reaching out and grabbing the blanket. Then, after bracing himself for a second, he starts trying to yank it slowly, gently out from between Argh's teeth. 

 

Argh growls, jerking his head back like a puppy.

 

"Argh, come on!" Jim winces. "You're gonna choke!" This is like a literal, very horrific version of that thing clowns do when they pull a hundred handkerchiefs out of their mouths, except he feels like there's a very real chance Argh could suffocate. Panicking, he yanks a little harder, then winces when he hears a loud ripping sound. He looks up just in time to watch Argh slurp down the last remnants of the blanket. 

 

"Argh..." Jim sighs. "Why do you do this to me?"

 

"Mah?" Argh frowns, looking immediately guilty. He wiggles over to Jim like one of those fat, newborn puppies, and Jim can't help but crack a smile. He doesn't want to-- seriously! Especially not after all that trauma, because Argh should _not_  be encouraged to do that again. But... 

 

"I can't leave you alone for a minute." He tucks his hands under Argh's fat arms, lifting him up against his chest with a sigh.

 

"Mmm... Mah!" Argh snuffles at him happily, big, green eyes going halfway closed as his floppy ears twitch.

 

"Uuugh, don't look at me like that," Jim whines. "You keep up the cutesy act, I'll have to let you eat anything!" He winces. "... Not really."

 

Argh doesn't seem to catch much of what he's saying though, because all he does is stick his big nose in Jim's ear and sniff.


	6. Jim/Steve, Mpreg Smut, Foe Yay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve/Jim Mpreg Foe Yay smut, basically what it says on the tin. Steve's a POS but I love him and hope he gets some character development more than just teased next season. Anyway, here's him bangin Jim against a locker. IDK if I'd call it non-con but very slight chance of that so maybe don't read if you no likey. Definitely Foe yay ish.

Ramming a hand against the wall of locker room wall, Steve blocks Jim's path without warning. "See? I told you you were a freak! And a... chick! A freaky chick." 

 

So Steve's insults are as well thought out as ever. Jim would note that it was nice to see some things never change, but he's a little preoccupied with not murdering the guy right now. "What the heck do you think you're doing?" Jim's not disgusted-- okay, well, no, he is, just like he always is with diaper boy here-- so much as confused. Steve's gotten no small amount of joy out of harping on Jim for his... situation, but even he's not quite dumb enough to think it's okay to try and beat up a... Uh. _Embarazada_ person. And Jim uses the word "try", because even factoring in his present issue, he's got no doubt in his mind he could kick Steve's butt. 

 

"Whatever, Lake. You're just a fat-- " His hand grabs clumsily at Jim's stomach and Jim freezes, this weird, conflicted expression flashing over his face. He's still mad, sure, but that felt... really strange. Not quite... bad. At least, it did for a second. "-- circus act! We oughta be dissecting _you_ in biology." 

 

"You're gonna have to speak a little more slowly," Jim hears himself say, tugging feebly at Steve's wrist as he tries to force his hand away. "I can't really understand what you say without the whistling."

 

Steve's face crumples into a glower and he shoves Jim against the lockers, rough enough to make the metal clang a little. "Shut up."

 

Jim's not scared. Again, he could pretty much put a stop to this whenever. But something about the situation still feels weird. Just weird enough for him to want to analyze what's happening just a little more before he acts. "... You're not dumb enough to actually try and hurt me, right?" 

 

"Maybe I am, Lake." Steve's hand is still on his belly, and Jim can't seem to stop noticing that, even as he watches Steve grit his teeth and lean over him. "Maybe I am." 

 

Jim's... actually not sure who moves first. But he hopes it wasn't him, because then he'd have to ask some serious questions about himself, and how he apparently has a lot of built up sexual tension for the most idiotic, obnoxious, _unhygienic_ jerkwad in Arcadia. But either way, Steve ends up yanking the collar of his baggy shirt down, and Jim's hands dig into the guy's shoulders as he starts sucking roughly against the crook of his neck.

 

No. No, no, _nonono_ \-- this is not happening! It can't be! It's like he's possessed; his body apparently doesn't belong to him anymore, because his body is letting Steve touch him. And not just touch him, do... stuff! Bad stuff! Stuff he only ever thought about letting Claire do-- or, more accurately, stuff he thought about _doing_ to Claire. 

 

"T-Total... ff... freak." Steve keeps repeating the same line dumbly, like he's gonna convince Jim he's not on board, even as he slides Jim's sweats down around his hips and grabs roughly at his swollen chest through his shirt. 

 

"At l-least I can r-read... " Jim swallows, back arching and head bumping repeatedly against the locker behind him. "A-At a higher-than-third-grade level." He hears Steve fumble with his belt, then hisses when the other boy presses against him again. 

 

"Y-Yeah, well you're... " Steve pushes in without warning, and Jim yelps, pressing against him as much as his belly allow while he feels his legs threaten to give. "N-Not ss... smart enough... to k-keep... fffrom gettin' knocked up." Soon as he says that, Steve starts pawing at Jim's belly, like he reminded himself of something he'd been looking forward to doing. He starts rocking against Jim, thrusting his hips clumsily. Jim gets his last clear thought-- something about how Steve probably hasn't won any prizes for pleasing the ladies-- and then it all stops mattering. Shifting so Steve gets at him from just the right angle, Jim huffs, burying his face in the blond's shoulder and closing his eyes blearily. They keep going for a while-- or maybe not, Jim honestly can't tell-- until finally, Jim's trembling and jolting with the last few spasms before crumpling forward limply. 

 

Steve keeps bucking for a few seconds, jostling Jim around a little before he finishes with an almost pained sounding noise. He clutches at Jim dumbly, chin dropping against Jim's shoulders, and Jim hears him mutter like he's sleep talking. "Nnn... Juhs... _Stupid_." 

 

Jim exhales, starting to feel extremely grossed out by what just happened. Still, he can't really stop himself from quipping back. "Oh, yeah, bud. You sure showed me." 


	7. Leorio/Morel, Mpreg/Labor/Birth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leorio/Morel Mpreg from my AU where (spoilers) Gon isn't able to be saved after the CA arc and Leorio's attempt at resurrecting him leads to a virgin mary situation. And basically Morel taking care of him and Leorio and him not making it to shore in time for Leorio to give birth in a hospital

It never stops being weird no matter how long Leorio's been like this; applying a symptom of pregnancy-- or, in this case, _labor_ , to himself... It just feels wrong. He remembers learning about this stuff, filling out exam questions with it. It's not like he specifically pictured working with patients every time he quizzed himself on diseases or genetic conditions, but sometimes he did. And he's sure, at least once, he thought about how he'd handle treating somebody throughout their pregnancy. It was probably something he was likely to see a lot of-- at least, he'd see it more often than most other things. 

 

That's probably why it feels so wrong to have felt pangs in his abdomen and thought, instantly, that this was definitely the beginning stage of labor. It wasn't something that should've been applicable to him. Not now, not ever. But it makes it pretty hard to think about that, or much of anything else, once the pain starts getting worse. 

 

Morel's got him bundled up in bed, covered in a heavy comforter and lots of pillows, and he brought hot water and towels as soon as Leorio asked for them. Morel's not one to panic, and Leorio knows that, but it almost breaks his heart to see the guy look so unsure of himself. Hell-- Leorio's scared shitless, but at least he's got the fact that he's the one about to be split in half to justify the feeling. All Morel has to do is stay stoic and do his best, and Leorio knows that, if one of them's gonna handle things better than the other, there's absolutely no doubt in his mind it's gonna be Morel.

 

"I don't think we're gonna make it to shore," Morel mumbles, saying aloud what they've both known for a few hours now. 

 

"S'okay," Leorio whispers, hoarse. Feels like it hurts to even say that much, but at this point, it almost doesn't matter. He's kind of pissed off still, deep in the back of his mind, when he finds himself letting Morel stroke his hair. It's not so much that he hates what Morel's doing, it's more that he's angry he let himself get so pathetic that he looks like he needs the attention to get by.

 

Although it's... It definitely _does_ help a lot.

 

He closes his eyes, and a lot of time passes. He mostly knows that because he somehow managed to fall asleep, but when he wakes up, he knows for sure he's not resting again until this is over. Whimpering, he sits up abruptly, grabbing for Morel's arm desperately. "H-Help me up! Help me up!" 

 

His throat's thick and dry feeling as he barely manages to get up off the bed, legs shaking violently as he forces himself to crouch over the ground. Some part of him's still wailing with embarrassment as he stands there and lets Morel shove a few blankets under the spot where his ass is hovering, but there's not a lot he can do to placate it right now. He just clutches Morel, fingers digging into his arms as he lets out a guttural noise, taking a deep, ragged breath and tensing every muscle in his body as he starts to push. Morel's mumbling a few interchangeable, encouraging words, rubbing his back feebly and holding him up easily. 

 

Leorio mashes his sweaty face against Morel's shoulder, bearing down again. Catching his breath. Bearing down. Again. He... kind of imagines that, if he ever has to pass a kidney stone, it'll be a hell of a lot like this. Only this is worse. Definitely worse. God, this better work. This better... _fucking_ work. At this point, he's not even sure it'll be worth it if it hasn't. Soon his body feels like it's not even his. Like the pose he's in has actually rendered all his joints useless, and he'll be stuck crouching and in pain until he passes out or dies. But then his body, almost on its own accord, builds up with the pain and clenches every muscle he's got until something drops out of him. 

 

Gasping, Leorio falls backwards onto his rear , Morel thankfully scooping the baby up before Leorio can accidentally hurt it. Him. Hurt _him_. Morel places the bundle in his arms as soon as he's cleaned up the baby a little, and Leorio takes in his chubby face, pitch black hair, scrunched up, but unmistakable features... And he lets out an overwhelmed sob. 

Soon, Morel's kissing at his forehead repeatedly, scooping him up and easing him back down on the bed. Leorio curls up eagerly, tucking the little body under his chin and letting out the most relieved noise he's ever made. As he drifts off, he might mumble something, or maybe he just thinks it, but either way, it's definitely one word:

 

"Gon..." 


	8. Jim/Draal Mpreg Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draal v gently boinkin preggers Jim. Again basically what's on the tin.

Jim's got no idea how this even happened! It'd be bad enough thinking he might like a _guy,_ but it's kind of a whole other thing when that guy happens to be ten feet tall, blue, and also a different species. But... at least Draal seems to like him back! So Jim's gonna postpone the freak out he knows he's gonna have to have at one point in favor of not thinking about any of this. Well, not too hard, anyway. 

 

Jim knows trolls don't really kiss, and they're not exactly good at it when they try (he thinks there's too much of an underbite situation going on), but Draal doesn't seem to mind when Jim kisses him. He pulls the big guy down-- actually, not really, because he's nowhere near strong enough to push Draal around, especially without his armor, so it's more like Draal's just letting him do stuff, but... Either way, he wraps his arms around as much of Draal's neck as he can, kissing gingerly at his big chin. Draal makes a soft noise, moving like he's scared that even _breathing_ too hard will hurt Jim.

 

"I'm okay," Jim insists. "Seriously! Remember when you were tossing me around in the arena? I'm pretty durable." 

 

Draal winces, and Jim realizes that might not've been the best memory to bring up. "Trollhunter, I-- "

 

Jim cuts him off. "Just... relax! Okay?" He smiles nervously. "We're both gonna chill out and... take it easy." They'll figure out... however this stuff works between a human and a troll. Jim can't help but wonder if Draal's just as inexperienced as he is, but if he starts thinking like that, he knows he's kind of going back on his own word. So he's not gonna worry. He's just gonna relax. Relax and... figure things out. 

 

Draal's prosthetic hand slides up his side, and Jim has this dizzy moment where he realizes the troll's hand is basically as big as his torso. Draal has to use his thumb to push the fabric of his shirt up, and Jim decides to just skip to the end, sitting up and lifting it up over his head. He blushes a little bit, glancing nervously up at Draal. He knows he looks completely ridiculous-- especially since mom got him a bunch of... support "garments", one of which he's more or less currently wearing. 

 

The crazy part is, Draal doesn't seem to care. He just ducks his head, nuzzling against Jim's shoulder, slowly and almost timidly. Jim smiles a little, and this time it's less nervous. Shivering, he curls his hands against Draal's stomach, not really sure what to do as the troll rubs the slightest, gentlest circle against his chest, using only the mechanical tip of his thumb. Jim swallows, blushing even redder when he realizes there's this very distinct throbbing between his legs in response to that. Draal shifts, cupping Jim's whole back with his fingers, his thumb still working at his chest delicately. Swallowing thickly, Jim arches his back, heart pounding excitedly as Draal's good hand moves to rest against his belly, the troll's fingers fanning out over the surface as he cups it curiously.

 

"Draal..." Jim's legs inch apart, and his hips give this pathetic, eager jerk. Draal makes a deep noise in the back of his throat, and the hand on Jim's stomach moves, gingerly tugging his boxers down. Draal ghosts his knuckles down Jim's widened hip, then starts rubbing his thumb up and down Jim's length, one of his other knuckles pressing against his entrance. Distantly, Jim realizes he sounds completely ridiculous, panting and whining like a stray cat in heat, but he really can't help it-- and he really doesn't care. 

 

Draal keeps stroking and rolling his hand, ducking his head again to nibble against Jim's shoulder as he mutters, "You're so soft..." 

 

Jim whimpers dumbly, a little too preoccupied to even think about making... word... sounds. Draal just keeps going, the hand between his legs shifting and moving in this totally irresistible way, the other thumb still kneading steadily at his chest... It doesn't take long until Jim's basically ready to burst. He knows he should be embarrassed, or ashamed, or maybe all of the above, but intead, he just rides out the spasms and waves of pleasure until he's completely spent, sagging against Draal's palm as he stares up at the troll stupidly. 

 

Draal raises a spiky eyebrow... ridge, then smirks down at Jim. "Well. You were right." He sets Jim gently down on the mattress, brushing his bangs aside with a lot less nervousness than before. "I had no reason to worry." 


	9. Lance/Hunk, Mpreg, Totally-Platonic-Backrubs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is pregnant and whiny and cute. Hunk is bad at trying to hide the fact that he's into it.

"Hunk?" 

 

Hunk glances over at Lance, and tries not to give in to the urge to, like... prop the guy up on something. It's just, when Lance slumps over the edge of the bed like that, it makes Hunk really nervous! But Lance yells at him every time he tries to keep him from doing something that looks like it might be dangerous, or uncomfortable, or not a super good idea, so he's been trying to hold himself back a little. "Uh... Yeah?" 

 

Lance groans, wiggling sluggishly under the weight of his belly. "Kiiiiiill meeeee." 

 

"Y-You're not serious, right?" Hunk decides scrap the stupid promise he just made to himself, diving forward and pulling Lance up onto the rest of the bed. "Because I heard pregnant laaaaaa...  _people_  can get really depressed, and when you're depressed you don't tell anybody, and then it gets worse, so if you're feeling down, you should totally just--" 

 

"HUNK!" Lance smacks at Hunk's arms, slumping forward with a moody pout. "I was just venting, okay? This sucks! Like,  _major league_ sucks. I gotta get all the bad mojo out somehow." He gives Hunk this really flat look. "And no, I'm wasn't being serious." He scoots toward Hunk, suddenly looking a lot more energetic, but also sadder. "We've talked about this, remember? I wanna die in battle with a bunch of alien babes weeping over me as I take my final breaths!"

 

"Oh." Hunk swallows. "Right." He inches towards Lance, feeling his heart give this panicked little squeeze before he works up the courage to sort of... touch shoulders with the guy. "S-So, um... If you're really feeling that bad, I could... " He lifts his hands, kind of miming... rubbing at something, and it actually looks way more "provocative" than he meant for it to. "Back rub! I could... do the back rub thing. Yeah." 

 

Lance yawns, arching his back and straightening up. Even though it's probably not comfortable, he still wears his now way-too-tight-shirts, and they ride up over his smooth back and... definitely bigger butt. Oh boy. Hunk's going down a very problematic thought process, and he knows it, but then he watches Lance's smooth, pretty legs stretch out over the mattress, and Lance flops back with his arms propping him up, shirt stretched tight over his arched, dome-like belly, and little, definitely kind of cute,  _swollen_  chest... Hunk honestly doesn't hear it for a second when Lance says, "Sure, big guy." 

 

"Roger that!" Hunk nods, sticking his arms out and lacing his fingers together so he can crack his knuckles and look like he was innocently thinking of friendship back rubs the whole time. Yep. Definitely wasn't being a creep,  or checking Lance out in all the weird places he complains about. Heart racing, he moves so he's behind Lance, his weight on the mattress sort of forcing Lance to slide right up against his lap. Hunk gulps, face burning as he starts slowly rubbing his thumbs against the knots in Lance's back. 

 

"You know?" Lance's head drops against Hunk's shoulder, and Hunk, even though he's screaming at his own brain to _stop it_ , can't keep from thinking the guy has... kind of a pretty face. Thin, with a cute, upturned nose, and surprisingly long eyelashes... "You're actually pretty good at this. I might have to make this a regular thing." 

 

"Sure!" Hunk winces, then clears his throat. "I mean-- Whatever! Just... h-helpin' out a friend!"

 

"Mm." Lance seems to give up on talking the more Hunk works at his back. But considering how badly Hunk's been doing conversationally, that's... probably a good thing. 


	10. Hunk/Lance, Mpreg, Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk gets hurt on a mission and Lance is upset.

Hunk sighs, flexing his fingers a tiny bit before wincing and freezing immediately. "Owwww, owww,  _owowow_! Okay. So that's... That's broken." 

 

"Yes, Hunk." Allura huffs, slowly lifting his bandaged-up arm into a sling before tying it around his shoulder. "That's precisely what I just said."

 

"Yeah, I know, I just... " He shrinks into himself weakly when Allura gives him one of those, "I'm not mad, just disappointed" kind of looks. "... Never mind."

 

He watches Allura rummage through the cabinets for a bit, then frowns, digging into his ear with his good hand. He hears this weird... ringing sound? And it actually feels like it's getting louder. Oh man! Is... Is deafness a side effect of a broken arm? Like, maybe he got so traumatized that he's losing his hearing due to stress! And he didn't even know he was that  _stressed_ oh wait. That sounds like... 

 

"Lance?" Hunk leans forward a little, listening as Lance's shouting gets slowly closer. Finally, the guy slams the med bay door open, and waddles inside really menacingly. Well, menacingly for a waddle, anyway. "What're you-- !"

 

"Why didn't you tell me you got hurt?" Lance winds his arm back, punching Hunk roughly in the good shoulder.

 

"Lance!" Allura yelps, turning on her heel and then freezing in shock when Lance actually talks back to her. Yeah, to  _Allura_. What the heck is going on?

 

"Can it for a second!" 

 

Hunk gulps, inching back as Lance leans forward, glancing all around the room before reluctantly forcing himself to look Lance in the eye. "Wh-What's the problem, e-exactly?"

 

"What're you, deaf?" Lance groans and Hunk grins weakly.

 

"Well, funny story about that, actually-- "

 

"Hunk!" Lance snaps, grabbing his shoulders without any warning. Hunk freezes, face falling when he realizes Lance looks like he might actually start crying. Which.... isn't all that abnormal, but it still makes him feel bad! "I just told you, okay? You're not allowed to get hurt!" He hears Lance sniff, then watches his head drop sadly. "I'm not around to protect you, remember? So you gotta be extra careful." 

 

Hunk opens his mouth-- he's pretty ready to argue that he wasn't being reckless, and that this stuff just kind of happens sometimes, but Lance is almost shaking, he's trying so hard not to cry... Hunk wants to defend himself, but that'd make Lance even sadder, and he just can't do that to the poor guy! "You're right. I'm sorry." Wrapping his good arm around Lance, he pulls that skinny frame close, rubbing clumsily at his back. Allura gives him a bewildered look and Hunk just kind of... shrugs weakly, watching her stare, then shrug back before ducking out of the room. Welp. Can't really blame her, there. 

 

"This is so dumb," Lance mutters, burying his face in the crook of Hunk's neck. "I can't do anything like this. I just have to stay here and worry like some... dead sailor's wife, or Allura-- but she won't even let me fire the good lasers!" 

 

"I know, buddy." Hunk sighs, but manages a little smile, squishing his cheek eagerly against Lance's. What can he say-- he's glad to see him! "At least you're almost done being...  _you know_." 

 

Lance is quiet for a second, then makes a fart noise with his mouth, but he stays curled up against Hunk, which he considers a pretty big victory.


	11. Hunk/Lance, Rapid Mpreg/Labor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Shay died at some point at Lance is cursed to be the one to reincarnate her. 'Nuff said.

"WHAT DO WE  _DO?!_ " Lance kicks and scrabbles backwards, like he's trying to get away from his own body.

 

"I d-dunno! Maybe we should-- " Hunk grabs at his face, staring straight into space as he starts muttering to himself. "I mean, what do they do in movies? B-Boil water? Get blankets? Towels? I mean, what if I pass out?" Hunk wobbles, feeling his face turn slightly green as his stomach churns ominously. "Ohhh gosh. I'm gonna pass out."

 

"NOPE." Lance must not be hurting that bad (at least, not yet) because he somehow jumps to his feet and basically tackles Hunk. "You are NOT making me deal with this alone, _capiche_?" 

 

"S-Sorry! Right! That's.... You're right!" Hunk gives Lance's shoulder a very weak, very timid pat. "We'll figure this out! Together." 

 

"Sss... Not much... figuring out... to do!" Lance's face scrunches up and he starts yanking down his pants without any warning.

 

"WHOA!" Hunk covers his eyes, but Lance grabs onto his wrists pretty much immediately after, so he can't  _not_ look for long. "What're you... What're you doing?"

 

Lance groans, squatting clumsily as he pants. "I h-have like three younger siblings, okay? I know what this... l-looks like!"

 

"What's, uh... What's... ' _this',_ exactly?" Hunk's definitely probably gonna throw up, but then Lance makes this really awful, pained noise and Hunk drops down next to him without a second thought.  "Actually-- ! Never mind." 

 

"J-Just... hold me up... " Lance grits his teeth, grabbing at Hunk's shoulders for support. Hunk wraps his arm around Lance's back, keeping him off the ground. They stay there for a while, and it... feels like a long time, but Hunk's pretty sure this is still way faster than normal, just like it was way faster than normal when Lance starting blowing up. Lance shudders against him, breathing as deeply as he can probably stand, and Hunk can feel his muscles start to clench really hard every few minutes, like clockwork. Hunk just holds him, trying not to feel too dizzy when Lance's pained noises start getting louder and louder. After a while of them just crouching there, and Lance bearing through the pain, he starts tugging desperately on Hunk's jacket. Hunk fumbles, slipping it off and hesitating for a second before hurriedly bundling it under Lance's rear.

 

Lance bears down one last time, his whole body tightening under Hunk's arms, and then, suddenly, Hunk... can't quite believe what he sees. But it's pretty hard to deny it. As soon as he thinks to glance down between Lance's legs, he spots something drop into the folds of his jacket. Hunk gawks, staring down at the little form as it starts to wriggle and make these tiny, miserable noises, then looks back up at Lance, who seems like he's sweating and miserable and still hurting, but probably feeling way better. The baby-- it's totally a baby, isn't it?-- lets out a thin cry and Hunk jolts, rushing to grab it and bundle it up in his arms. And... also sort of dropping Lance in the process. "CRAP!" He winces, reluctantly glancing over at the other boy. "S-Sorry." At least he was already close to the ground, right?

 

"It's cool," wheezes Lance. "'M just gonna... Lie here. For a while."

 

Huck pats the baby mostly-dry with his jacket, then gingerly folds it under Lance's head. He leans against the wall, studying the baby tiredly. It's totally a Balmeran, and Hunk thinks-- 

 

Wait. Balmeran? Hunk blinks, feeling like the rest of his brain comes back as soon as it clicks that the baby being Balmeran is somehow still even weirder than all the other stuff that's happened up to this point. The crazy... This crazy alien curse that just happened to Lance.... It said something about former companions, right? "Lance?" Hunk swallows, watching those clear, yellow eyes blink open and squint at him. "Is this...  _Shay_? I think... I think you might've made Shay."

 

Lance doesn't really respond for a second, but in the end, he does answer-- kind of. He just lifts his hand and gives Hunk a very exhausted looking thumbs up.


	12. GanLink, Mpreg, Labor, Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An AU where Ganon is a relatively normal young man and the last of the Gerudo in Twilight Princess. Basically everything happens the same as canon, except Ganon isn't involved and the only villain is Zant. Then Link and Ganon make a baby.

Ganon's stomach hasn't stopped twisting itself into knots since Link's... Well, Ganon knows she's not really Link's mother, but she's certainly the closest thing he has to one, and ever since she pushed Ganon out of the room, he's just been standing there by the door frame, listening to Link's awful, guttural cries as he suffers through the pain. Every time he howled, he sounded raspier and more miserable than the before, and now, things have gone deathly quiet. Ganon can't stop his mind from going to the worst possible place, and when Uli opens the door, he thinks his heart just about stops.

 

He can't read the expression on her face at first, maybe because he's still so terrified. But then she smiles. "He's fine." She gingerly touches his shoulder. "They're both fine." 

 

Ganon swallows thickly, glancing into the room. "C... C-Can I?" He does understand if he can't go in and see them, but... he also isn't sure how much longer he can take it, not seeing Link  _alive,_ with his own two eyes. 

 

Uli glances back, like she's thinking hard about it, then gingerly shoves him towards the door without warning. "Go ahead. But don't overexert him." 

 

Ganon nods dizzily, padding into the room. Each step feels like it takes a full minute, and by the time he makes it to the small chair by the bed, he feels like he's going to collapse. Easing down, he winces when the chair gives an ominous creak, then exhales slowly, leaning over Link. Who... looks much less like he's on death's door, and a lot more like the cat that stole the cream. Well, admittedly, it's more of a mix of both, but he definitely looks quite proud of himself. 

 

"Hi," Link rasps, blinking sluggishly at him.

 

"Hello," Ganon mumbles, and gingerly pushes the bangs off his damp forehead. For once, Link lets him.

 

"You wanna see her?" Link jerks his head towards the tiny bundle resting at his side. 

 

Ganon blinks, jaw going slack. "Wuh-- Y-Yes! Yes, of course!" Somehow, he almost forgot that there  _was_  actually a child. For a moment there, all he could think of was Link, despite the fact that this infant is the very reason he's currently in this state.

 

Somewhat spellbound, he just observes as Link shifts the baby into the crook of his arm, slowly peeling back the layers around the child's face. "It's a girl, by the way."

 

"She's a Gerudo," breathes Ganon. Her dark skin, the round ears, the fiery red hair... There's no denying it.

 

"Yep." Link nods, then holds her out as casually as if he were handling somebody's fat, old pet cat. "Wanna hold her?"

 

"M-Me?" Ganon blinks, face burning a little as he realizes how ridiculous that sounded. The child is _his_ , too. Why is he so terrified? "Right. Uh. Y-Yes. That would be... acceptable."

 

"Oooh, it's  _acceptable?_ " Link makes a ridiculous face and Ganon finds himself wondering just what sort of show Link was putting on for Uli. "Thank you-- _Thank you_ , your majesty!" Sitting up clumsily, Link wriggles until he's upright, still holding the baby out as he shifts. "Just take her, stupid."

 

Ganon has no choice in the matter when Link practically shoves the infant into his arms. They bend instinctively, cradling her, but his heart won't stop pounding. She's so small-- absolutely _tiny_ \-- and she keeps wriggling and wrinkling her nose in a way that makes it seem as though she's about to burst out crying at any moment. After watching this behavior for a second, he nervously mutters, "I don't think she likes me."

 

Link flops against Ganon's shoulder, and Ganon ducks his head a bit, watching as the Hylian's eyes droop shut immediately. "Yeah, well, neither did I when I met you, but look at us now!" Ganon's about to point out that neither of them did this on purpose, but thankfully, realizes now may not be the best time. 

 

"You're right." He sighs, trying to force himself to calm down a little. With Link's warm body nuzzled against him, and the baby finally going still, it's easier than he expected. After staying like that for a few minutes, he gingerly brushes one thumb against the infant's cheek, murmuring, "What should we name her?"

 

Link's response, eloquent as ever, is a loud, grating snore.   


	13. Link/Sidon, Mpreg, Breasts, lactation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty self explanatory.

"Link?" 

 

Something about Sidon's tone has Link feeling really nervous. Maybe he's gotten to know Sidon  _too_  well-- is that bad? Link's not really sure if that's a good thing, at this point-- because the minute he hears the big fish talking like that, it's like he's got some kind of warning siren blaring inside his head. "Yeeeaaah?" 

 

"I understand that the topic makes you uncomfortable--" Oh, boy. Link hates it when he's right. "But I find it difficult not to be curious!" Sidon leans over him, and even then, just keeps... towering.

 

Link hunches his shoulders awkwardly, digging a finger in his ear to kind of... distract from the tension that's building. Mostly on his end, sure, but Link's allowed to feel as much tension as he wants, all right? "Yeah? What's the, uh... What's the issue here?" 

 

"Your pectoral sacks--" 

 

Link groans. He's about to correct Sidon before realizing that, no, the alternative isn't actually any better. (And he doesn't even wanna think about whether it's more accurate!) "Sidon, can we not-- " 

 

"I had no idea they were able to do more than inflate!" And he's just... talking over Link. Again. Sure! Why not! "Functioning as a mating display is one thing, but Hylian's bodies are so useful!" He lowers himself down even more, peering at Link's chest like it's about to unload the secrets of the universe on him. "Providing all the nourishment one's young could ever need... It's remarkable!" 

 

"Funny you mention 'remarking', cuz... " Link swallows, face heating up as Sidon slowly moves one of the silky straps of his dress (which he's still not too happy about, by the way!) off his shoulder. "I mean, I would definitely support taking a break from 'remarking' for the rest of the day." Sidon's hand cups one side of Link's chest and he winces, face burning with embarrassment when he realizes it kinda fills up a lot more of Sidon's palm than it proportionately should. As in, even on a girl who just happened to be the same size and shape as Link these things would look ridiculous! "E-Especially about this particular... guh... "He swallows thickly, feeling sort of dizzy when Sidon gives him a gentle squeeze. "T... Topic." 

 

"Shhh." Sidon kneads gingerly, and Link reluctantly goes still, glancing around the room awkwardly until the touches stop feeling mostly weird and awkward, and a little more... pleasant and hard to refuse. Even so, it's still a little uncomfortable, especially when the pressure starts to build up and Link actually... 

 

Well, he... 

 

He _spurts_. Just a little, sure, but it's not like it's something that's easy to miss! He feels his stomach drop and his face gets even redder, blush spreading all the way to the tips of his ears.  But Sidon doesn't laugh, or make a face, or try to turn this into another biology lecture. He just ducks his huge head, pressing his surprisingly soft lips against the underside of Link's breast as he gives him a delicate kiss. "You're incredible." 

 

Link jolts. Damn it! Doesn't he know he's making things even worse? Stuttering wordlessly, Link shrinks into himself, pressing his knees together weakly as Sidon laps at his chest. He doesn't even pull away when the Zora straightens up enough to kiss him, instead dimly noting that he guesses this is what his...  _product_  tastes like. Not...  _really_ something he ever wanted to know, but it's kinda late to take it back now. Sighing, Link pulls away, breathing slowly as he tries to ground himself, then flops forward, resting his temple against Sidon's chest before they continue. 

 

Sure, this gets more and more humiliating for Link as time goes by, but maybe this is a blessing in disguise. Yeah, he's embarrassed now, but Gods know how much worse it would've been with somebody who  _wasn't_  unbearably clueless! 


	14. Sidon/Link, Mpreg, Fluff

Link's not sure how long he's been sitting at this desk, but it must've been longer than he thought, because, by the time he actually starts to stand up, his back's already aching. Groaning, he paws at it uselessly, trying to get at least a little relief. Gods, he feels like he's getting punished or something! It's bad enough that there's so little for him to do, he actually turned into a bookworm, but now he can't even stand up without hurting! Maybe he should just go to bed. It's getting pretty late, and it feels like the sun set forever ago. Everything's so spooky and glowy in the castle, sometimes Link feels like he can't even tell what time it is.

 

He takes a couple steps-- real careful, tiny ones-- then yelps when he slams into Sidon. "GUH!" Stumbling backwards, Link almost falls, but Sidon's hand catches him by the shoulder almost instantly. "You scared me!" He paws at his face, suddenly way more exhausted than he usually is. And nowadays, that's really saying something! "I thought you were still asleep." Sidon passed out a couple hours ago, but it's like he has some sort of sixth sense that wakes him up whenever Link's in danger. And, apparently, just walking around is a "danger" to him now. 

 

"I'm sorry." Sidon lifts Link up gingerly, putting one hand under his knees, and using the other to prop him up by the back. Link knows he should be madder that Sidon doesn't even bother asking him before he does this, but at this point, he's given up. He's... given up on a _lot_ of things since he stopped being able to see his toes. "I didn't mean to startle you!" 

 

Link rolls his eyes. "I mean, that's kind of exactly what you did. I'm literally more 'startle' than person right now." Yawning, he rests his cheek gingerly against Sidon's smooth, cool chest.  "Maybe I'll find it in me to forgive you. Y'know-- someday." 

 

Sidon's getting better at ignoring Link's sarcasm, because his only response to that is to nuzzle up into the crook of Link's neck and give him the slightest little nip. And Link has to admit, as annoying as it is to get treated like a two-year-old, everything hurts a lot less when he's off his feet. Plus, he's kind of glad Sidon's the one looking out for him-- mostly because Link gets the feeling that he'd break anybody else's back if they tried to lift him, and that wouldn't exactly do wonders for his self esteem. Especially since his self esteem is  _not_  at its healthiest right now. He can't help but blush a little when they see a couple guards on the way back to Sidon's room, but they don't even seem to notice or care that Link's being toted around like an expensive lapdog. And before long, Sidon's setting him down on the bed and lying down on his side, curling around Link like a big, sleepy cat. 

 

"You don't have to keep doing this stuff," Link insists. "I can still walk. Like... see these?" Link holds his arms out, waving downards. "I've got these awesome things called legs. Maybe you call 'em swim betterers, or tail danglers or something. But the point is, with these legs, I can-- " He pauses, just in case Sidon needs to gasp in amazement. " _\--actually_  walk." 

 

"Link... " Sidon shakes his head, giving an amused, but obviously tired, smirk. This has been kind of hard for Sidon, too, Link realizes. "You don't have to make a joke out of this. You're doing something no Hylian has done before, in more than one way. I know you aren't used to it, but you deserve to be taken care of." He reaches out, rubbing Link's back, moving more gently than he would've expected from somebody with torso-sized hands. And Link's only human! It feels  _amazing_ , and he's not so much of a jerk that he'll pretend it doesn't for the sake of his pride. He leans back into Sidon's hand, feeling some of the muscles he didn't even know he had tensed up start to relax. 

 

"I mean... " He sighs. "You're right. But... " Link shrugs, glancing over at Sidon's bright, yellow eyes and almost forgetting what he was going to say. "Y'know. Easier said than done." So much about this feels wrong! He used to be able to run anywhere and fight anything, but now he's huge and slow, and he can't do either. When something hurt him, he'd just get back up and keep going, but now he aches almost constantly, and there's no powering through it. And sure, he was never all that obsessed with being the manliest guy in the world-- he wouldn't have put up with that Gerudo garb if he was!-- but something about being soft, and round, and  _feminine.._. It feels really strange, and Link's got this constant, never-ending sensation of embarrassment because of it.

 

Sidon pulls Link down next to him, and it's such a gentle gesture, Link almost wants to be mad. He almost wants to yell at Sidon and tell him to throw him around like he's used to. But he just doesn't have it in him right now. "Just try your best." He smiles, and it's so cute, Link feels an urge to hide his face in this stupid waterbed mattress. "And if you don't like being doted on, I'll stop." 

 

Link snorts. "You would've been more convincing if you didn't use that word." Doting, huh? It makes it sound like he's eighty! But he guesses Sidon's got a point. "But... " He curls up a little, wrapping his arms around Sidon's huge head. "I guess you're still  _pretty_  convincing." 


	15. Katsuku/Izuku, Post Mpreg, breastfeeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katsuki has to teach Deku how to use the tiddy.

Katsuki's been waiting for what's gotta be at least twenty goddamn minutes, but Deku's still holed up in the bedroom like a plague victim. Grumbling to himself, he decides he gives even less of a shit about Deku's privacy than he did before-- which basically means "less than zero shits"-- and barges through the door. Deku screams like a little pansy, jostling the brat a little as he rushes to cover his naked rack.

 

"The hell's taking so long?"

 

Deku just blushes and stutters, curling into himself as if Katsuki hasn't seen the guy doing way more degrading, embarrassing shit.

 

"K-Kachan! Wh-What're you... I mean, could you.. Could you give me some privacy?"

 

Katsuki rolls his eyes, stomping over to the bed. "I was gonna be nice and shit, but then you took a goddamn _hour_  to do nothing." 

 

"That's not it at all!" Deku squirms, pulling the tiny brat up against his chest, like he's using him as a crappy little shield. "I-It's just... Shin-chan won't... " Katsuki can hear him gulp. Fucking pathetic. "H-He won't, um... " There's a pause so long it makes Katsuki want to start twitching before Deku tacks on: "... Eat." 

 

"Hm." That is kinda weird. It's not like Deku doesn't have a gallon or two stored in his tits at all times, so he can't be tapped out. Grumbling, he clambers onto the bed with Deku, pulling the guy's arm down so he can take a long, hard look at the little gremlin. His face is all red, and sorta damp looking, like he's sweating. He also isn't moving too fast, and his little noises sound all raspy and weak. "He's sick, stupid." 

 

"R-Really?" Katsuki swears, he can see every hair on Deku's head puff up to twice its ridiculous size. "This is bad! Should we take him to the hospital? Or would a clinic be faster? O-Or maybe the travel would be too stressful, and he should stay here. I guess... Maybe we could see if any doctors nearby make house c-- "

 

"SHUT UP!" Katsuki snarls. Feels like every word of the idiot's mile-a-minute ranting is smashing into his face! Grumbling, Katsuki tugs Deku's shirt up, ignoring the panicked "Kachan!" and pushing Deku's arm-- the one holding the kid-- back against him. Deku frowns, blushing, but brings the kid up to his chest. Infuriatingly, the brat just turns his head away with a whine.

 

Growling again, Katsuki waits until the kid's settled down, then strokes his thumb against the bottom of his chin. After holding still for a second, he makes a surprised noise. Damn, maybe it's a good thing that nurse bitch back at the hospital was too annoying to tune out-- this trick actually works! The little ghoul opens his mouth with a needy squeak, and Deku, when he's finished gawking like the moron he is, cups the back of the brat's head and pulls him up against his chest, wincing a little when he latches on. 

 

"Was that so fucking hard?" Katsuki groans, flopping back against the bed. "Shit-- you're always gonna be Deku, cuz you can't do anything right." 

 

Deku wriggles a little next to him, mumbling, "Y-you don't have to stay in here, you know." 

 

Katsuki grunts, closing his eyes and listening to the little sucking noises. Deku's skin is pretty hot, probably because he's working himself into an aneurysm about Katsuki seeing the little troll leech off him, but all in all, it's not pissing him off as much as he would've figured. "You're welcome, dipshit."

 

Deku lets out a huffy noise, and gives Katsuki the moodiest kiss on the forehead he's ever gotten from the guy.


	16. Katsuki/Izuku, post mpreg, lingerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deku's girlfriends stick him in some lingerie, and Katsuki don't mind it one bit.

It's not like Katsuki gives a shit about all the stupid ways Deku has been wasting his own time-- especially not if it's with the most mind-numbingly idiotic concept Katsuki's ever heard. Seriously? Spending a night with a bunch of drunk, screeching chicks? Katsuki doesn't want to think about that crap at all, but a part of him's still a little concerned. Namely, about how he's gonna want to bash his head in if Deku gets back and starts going on and on about what a "fun time" it was. Or, God forbid, if he ends up bringing a few of those wasted idiots home with him.  

 

It's bad enough that Katsuki's almost asleep when the bastard gets back, but then Deku has to drop his keys and slam the door  _audibly,_  like a complete asshole. When he gets into the room, he keeps shuffling around, making more goddamn noise than Katsuki would've thought was possible for somebody who's clearly trying to be quiet. It's obvious he's trying to move around in the dark, but just like every other fucking thing, Deku sucks at that, too. 

 

Growling under his breath, Katsuki sits up and fumbles to turn on the lamp, snapping, "Just turn on the light, you fucking moron!" If he's gonna wake Katsuki up trying to sneak around, it doesn't have a fucking point, does it? 

 

Deku freezes, shirt halfway over his head and pants around his knees. "K-Kachan!" 

 

Katsuki glowers, but doesn't really say anything for a second. Instead, he just...  _looks_. Deku's wearing a bra. Like... a legit bra, not just the weird little half-shirt thing he usually wears. It's lacy, and pink, and actually fits his rack. Suddenly, Katsuki's got a decent idea of what happened at that party. Leering, he hops off the bed, grabbing Deku before he can squirm away. "Didn't want me to see this, did you?" Deku wriggles, so Katsuki snakes a hand up and gives his chest a sharp honk. "Don't be a little shit. I wanna see." 

 

"K-Kachan, quit it!" Deku whines, but just like always, goes still as soon as Katsuki gives him enough attention. Still kneading at his chest, Katsuki takes in the way his tits fit almost perfectly into the bra, just a tiny bit of flesh overlapping the lacy rim of the cups. His cleavage looks pretty great in this thing, and the matching panties are a nice touch. Katsuki can't resist giving Deku's ass a little smack, followed by some groping. The way his butt and plump hips fill out the fabric, his curves straining against it just enough to drive Katsuki crazy-- it ought to be illegal. 

 

Grinning, he quickly slides his hand into one of the cups, squeezing and rubbing at Deku's nipple as he gingerly works his panties down with his other hand. Deku gasps a little when Katsuki grabs him by the thigh, spreading out his palm so he can brace Deku against him as he pushes in suddenly from behind. Just like always, Deku acts like it's the end of the fucking world for a second before he settles down, weakly grinding backwards as Katsuki starts pumping his hips. Yeah, he was always complete _shit_ at acting like he wasn't into this. Katsuki keeps bucking, hazily watching Deku's chest jiggle against his hand with each stroke before he nuzzles at the brat's pale neck, clamping on a little lighter than usual. What can he say? They're both worn out. 

 

Deku squeaks when that happens, and then he starts shuddering. From there, it's no time at all before Katsuki follows suit, finishing easily. He stays frozen for a second, pinning Deku against him before he stumbles back, yanking his boxers back up. He takes a second to catch his breath, then grabs Deku's wrist, dragging the brat back onto the bed with him.

 

"Hey!" Deku yelps, but ends up staying where he is, face down on the mattress. "... You're a jerk." 

 

Katsuki thinks about that for a second, then clamps down on the end of Deku's nose as soon as the other boy looks up. 


	17. Izuku, mpreg, kidnapping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU where Deku was born with the world's shittiest quirk (basically the ability to get knocked up), something he didn't even know about until he was kidnapped to be used as what's basically a cloning pod for people with other powerful quirks.

Izuku doesn't know what to do anymore. He's given up. It makes him feel sick to his stomach to think that, especially after all the times-- and there must've been at least a _hundred_ \-- he told himself that would never happen. That he couldn't  _let it_  happen. But now? It's been months. Izuku's quirk doesn't work; they've got him under the constant surveillance of somebody with Mr. Aizawa's type of power. Whenever he tried to get out, or escape, one for all stopped working. And without one for all, Izuku's never been very strong. Certainly not stronger than these people. The guards would drag him back, pin him down, slip a needle into his arm and knock him unconscious. It happened every time, and Izuku tried over and over and _over._.. He does hate himself for giving in-- how could he not?-- but he knows now that it wouldn't have made a difference even if he kept fighting.

 

It's not that bad, he guesses. They're keeping him in one of the top stories of a skyscraper, and he has the whole floor to himself. It's basically huge apartment, and he has all the clothes and food he could want.  But he doesn't want them. He can't bear to starve himself-- something about doing that to the baby makes him feel sick-- but he wishes he had the willpower not to give in and eat. And he never wanted to wear the stupid outfits, but after he stopped fitting into his own clothes, he had no choice. They're all loose dresses and cardigans, things a girl would wear, but they're all that fits him now. With the way his hair's grown out, and the way he's dressed, Izuku's sure they're trying to make him look more like he's female, just in case the delivery men who bring him new things might recognize him as missing. This way, he looks like another person.

 

Once a week, a man comes in and gives him a medical exam. He doesn't talk to Izuku other than telling him what to do, and he never answers any questions Izuku has, no matter how much he screams or threatens him. Of course, he stopped doing that pretty quickly. There wasn't any point, really. Now, he's sitting timidly on his bed, clutching his stomach and trying not to mull over how scared he is, and how close he is to the baby... _coming_. He's not even sure what to expect when that time comes, and the doctor sure won't tell him. The only information Izuku ever got was that he's here to exercise his quirk's full potential-- and when they say his "quirk", he's positive they don't mean one for all. When he thinks about having  _this_  quirk used to its fullest extent, he feels like breaking down for real.

 

All of a sudden, he yelps, ears ringing from as a tremendous smashing noise reverberates across the apartment. Izuku's heart trembles in his chest, and his eyes grow huge. Swallowing, he slips off the bed, padding barefoot towards the door and wondering queasily what they're going to do with him now. It won't do any good to hide and wait it out. He exits the short hall, practically shaking as he enters the living room, both hands gripping his massive belly anxiously. He turns his head, then lets out a weak sob. 

 

He does recognize that face. He'd know it anywhere, and he doesn't think he's felt this happy in nearly a year. 

 

"A-All Might!" He rushes towards the hero as fast as he can, stumbling and stopping himself when he's a couple yards away. God, he must look totally ridiculous! Unrecognizable! His hair's long, pulled back in a ribbon (they wouldn't give him any normal rubber bands, and Izuku never found any scissors or knives to cut his own hair). His belly is huge and round, pushing his dress out, and feeling heavy against his hands. That, along with his swollen chest, makes him look pretty unmistakably...  _pregnant_. But that doesn't make him look like Izuku Midoriya-- like who he's  _supposed_  to be. There's a sick jolt of panic in his chest when he realizes All Might may not know who he is.

 

"Midoriya!" All Might booms, and takes in the sight of him. And, for the first time Izuku can remember, he sees All Might frown-- actually  _frown_ \-- in his hero form. "... What  _happened_  to you?" 

 

Izuku wonders if All Might thinks this is some sick game. That maybe the person-- or people-- who kidnapped him just had a weird fetish, and wanted him to play dress up. He wishes it had been that simple. Shaking his head, he looks up with a sad smile as tears bubble from the corners of his eyes. "T-Turns out... I wasn't quirkless after all!" 

 

"Midoriya... " All Might's voice gets soft, and Izuku watches, confused, as he instantly shrinks and slouches before his eyes. For a split second, he's confused, but then he feels an icy chill in the pit of his stomach. 

 

"Oh, no... " How could he forget? No matter how much stronger All Might is, no matter how much more experienced he is...

 

That power stopping quirk would work on him too, wouldn't it? 


	18. Todoroki/Izuku, Mpreg, Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very pregnant Izuku keeps stressing Todoroki out.

Shoto doesn't want to say that he's got a bad feeling when he gets home, and he certainly doesn't want to imply that he doesn't trust Izuku, but when he enters the bedroom, and sees that Izuku is gone, he's... not surprised. The doctors put him on bed rest-- he's allowed to get up the use the bathroom, but that's essentially it-- but Izuku seems to be following a very different definition of the term. Shoto does understand that Izuku has plenty of issues with feeling useless, but, as he's tried to explain, the best way he can help Shoto right now is by resting up and staying healthy. It seems like he'll understand, and he'll act like he's considering it, but as soon as Izuku gets hungry, Shoto knows he shies away from bothering any of the nurses and sneaks into the kitchen to make something for himself.

 

Admittedly, Izuku's been good about not actually leaving the house. But given that he's not even supposed to be _standing_  for long, it seems that his self-restraint hasn't really gotten much better. Now that he's familiar with the routine, Shoto stumbles through the bedroom, peers in the bathroom to make sure Izuku's not inside, then rushes into the kitchen. Sure enough, Izuku's there, and just like the last few times, he looks like he doesn't have a care in the world-- like he hasn't done anything wrong at all. That's one of his problems, Shoto thinks. Izuku can be told to do something, and he'll probably do it without question every time,  _unless_  it goes against something he believes, in which case, he simply won't cooperate. And Izuku believes that it's wrong to be a burden, so no matter how many times he's told to lie still and wait, it will never sink in.

 

"O-Oh!" As Shoto gets closer, Izuku finally sees him and starts, dropping the knife he was using onto the floor. "Sho-kun! I didn't... I didn't, uh... see you there." Shoto watches for just a second as Izuku bends and tries to fish the knife off the floor, but stops him by grabbing it first. It just... makes him nervous to see Izuku moving around like this, especially when he's so overburdened. 

 

"You need to go back to bed," Shoto sighs, straightening up. He isn't going to ask what Izuku's doing-- the answer's always the same, and it doesn't really matter at this point. Dropping the knife in the sink, Shoto takes the two halves of a sandwich from Izuku, then turns and starts spooning more egg salad onto the bread. 

 

"I'm fine!" Izuku insists, reaching out to try and take the spoon from Shoto. Unfortunately-- or maybe luckily-- his stomach keeps him from reaching too far over the counter. 

 

"You may be fine  _now_ , but staying on bed rest is the only way to be certain you'll stay healthy." Shoto sighs, gently pressing the two pieces of bread together and turning towards Izuku. It's... especially hard to argue with him like this. That's why Shoto avoids looking at him when they disagree! Sure enough, now that he glances back, he sees Izuku's cheeks have gone red from frustration, and his hands are clenched into fists at his side. He's barefoot, and his hair's grown out, and his whole frame is dwarfed by his enormous stomach. Now, the only clothes that fit him are the maternity clothes they received as wedding gifts. Currently, he's wearing a high-collared dress, which almost looks like a Victorian-era nightgown, which drapes over his stomach and makes his condition unmistakable. In a very odd way, it suits Izuku, and Shoto feels his own cheeks get a slight, pink tinge as he hands Izuku his sandwich. 

 

Huffing, Izuku bites into it moodily, then lowers his hands, forearms resting on the shelf of his belly as he angrily chews. 

 

"Please," Shoto pleads, wrapping his arms gingerly around Izuku, squeezing him tightly, but also carefully. Even though he's seen what Izuku's quirk can do, sometimes he still seems so fragile. The last thing Shoto ever wants to do is hurt him. Sighing, he rubs gingerly at the side of Izuku's tremendous stomach, smiling tiredly when Izuku lowers one hand to place on top of his. "I just want everything to turn out well. It's the least I can do for you." 

 

Izuku sniffs, giving Shoto that harsh, stubborn look. He's only ever seen Izuku use that expression on a small handful of people-- he's never sure if he should feel lucky, or a little scared when he thinks about that. "Why can't you just trust that I can take care of myself?" 

 

Shoto sighs again, then smiles, kissing at the side of Izuku's neck until he can feel him wriggle and start to laugh. "Well, let's face it." He pulls away, looking Izuku in the eyes for as long as he can before Izuku shyly glances away. "You aren't the best at following orders." 


	19. Katsuki/Izuku, mpreg, wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deku finds out he was born with the world's shittiest quirk when Katsuki knocks him up and their parents force them to have a shotgun wedding.

Katsuki's pretty sure he's never been more pissed in his damn life. The feeling's been a constant for the last two months, and he's pretty sure nobody can blame him-- or if they can blame him, they fucking  _shouldn't,_  since this is all Deku's goddamn fault. The one time Katsuki did some nice, pansy-ass thing for Deku, it bites him in the ass with Deku's idiotic quirk. Well, his _other_  idiotic quirk. Katsuki can't keep this shit straight; all he knows is that Deku's a damn liar and he's tired of getting dragged into stupid crap because of it. 

 

But this? This is the final straw. Katsuki tried to get out of it, but apparently his mom's a freaking psycho, and is perfectly fine with shackling him to a useless piece of garbage like Deku for the rest of his damn life. Now, standing up at the front of the church, stuffed into a stupid white monkey suit with his hair yanked back in some fugly style, he can feel his palms start to heat up. He's seconds away from blowing this stupid altar to smithereens and going on the lam, because there's no way in hell he's marrying anyone. And even if he _was_  okay with this marriage bullshit, if he had a list of people he might be able to shack up with without puking, Deku wouldn't even be on it.

 

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he growls under his breath, watching his brat cousin stumble around throwing petals, following Deku's shitty little cousin as he stumbles up to the altar with the ring. Katsuki snatches the thing off the pillow as soon as the kid comes close enough, barely holding back the urge to kick him roughly when he just stares up at Katsuki dumbly. Damn it, he's not gonna hold back anymore! He'll melt this fucking ring into a puddle! He'll smash the windows and bail! He's not marrying Deku unless hell freezes over! 

 

Speak of the fucking devil. Deku comes tip-toeing in through the double doors, and... 

 

What the hell is he wearing?

 

He's got this massive dress on, the kind that Katsuki's seen those super-spoiled American chicks wear. There's a tight bodice covered in pearls and sequins, along with a little border of lace just above the skirt. His hands sort of disappear into the fluff and folds of it, which flare out dramatically from his hips. It looks like he's holding back the urge to hike the whole thing up, and judging by the look on his face, he's pretty damn humiliated. Katsuki should get a kick out of that-- and who the hell's he kidding, of course he does! It'd be unnatural not to-- but he doesn't start cracking up like he's supposed to. He just...  _stares_ , gritting his teeth together and swallowing. Even though part of him is laughing its ass off, the message doesn't seem to be getting through to his brain. Maybe he's just distracted by the fact that Deku apparently has tits now, judging by how much cleavage he's sporting in that thing. 

 

After what feels like half a century of gawking, Deku makes it up on stage across from him, blushing like a moron and then finally looking up Katsuki and freezing. Katsuki tries to ask him what the hell he's staring at, but those words don't come out either. Instead, Deku knocks the wind out of him. Not by punching him, but by grabbing his hands with his gloved fingers, holding on tight. 

 

_Shit._

 

They're really doing this, aren't they? Katsuki feels himself swallow thickly, but... 

 

He doesn't pull his hands away just yet. 


	20. Magnus, post mpreg, fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus has babbeh and all his friends come to see this. Please God do not ever let this reach the sweet eyes of any McElroy, I don't want them to feel my shame

You know, all in all, the med...  _dome_  isn't really that bad! Magnus was the only person here for a while, but then Carey came in with a busted up hand, which she said she got from punching the wall too hard, and ended up a couple beds away from him. The fact that she winked at him after she said that made him think it wasn't really an accident. Magnus is a tiny bit miffed at her for hurting herself on purpose, but he's also like... _ninety_  percent just really happy to see her, so he forgets to mix a little "I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed" in with his excitement. Killian's there with her, and as soon as Carey's hand is all wrapped up, they both wander over to him. 

 

"Wow." Killian leans over the bed, looking amused and a little perplexed. "Are all human newborns so... scrawny?" 

 

"Hey!" Magnus pouts a little, curling a finger under Angus's tiny, round chin. "He's not scrawny, he's _scrappy_!" 

 

"Oh, suuure, buddy." Carey pats his shoulder gently and Magnus huffs. They just don't get it! But Taako and Merle will-- 

 

Hey! Where are those guys, anyway? Angus has been...  _out_  for a few hours now. 

 

"Well, no need to hold your breath!" Magnus hears the sound of high heels clopping through the door and grins, turning over so he can watch his teammates come in. "We're here now!" Grinning lazily, Taako takes a seat delicately on the foot of the bed, folding his legs. "Sorry we're late. I didn't feel like waking up that early."

 

"Er-- What he means is," Merle insists, "was that we were so excited to see you, we just.... had to take an hour or two to compose ourselves!"

 

"Sure, sure." Taako keeps grinning. "I  _just said_  the other thing, and you heard me, but let's both pretend Merle's not pulling garbage out of his ass." 

 

"Uh... " Magnus pauses, then chuckles. "Sure."

 

"Boy, you look like shit, huh?" Taako stands, inching closer to Magnus and leaning over him. He squints at the bundle that is Angus, reminding Magnus of some kind of bird of prey. He sees Merle give a little hop, trying to get close enough to see, so he leans forward and angles Angus a little more towards the dwarf. Everybody's quiet for a second, and then Taako starts wheezing with laughter. "I-Is that it? Is that seriously it?" 

 

Magnus feels his grin shrink a little. "... Yeah? Why?"

 

Taako almost cuts him off. "You were a space station, my man! You looked like you were housing a whole colony of Agnises in your gut!" Cackling, he wraps his arms around his middle, bending and shaking as he doesn't even try to hold it in. Killian, Carey, and Merle are all staring by the time he adds, "You got ripped off!" 

 

Magnus glowers flatly. "Thanks, Taako."

 

Taako keeps laughing raspily until nothing but weird, strangled squeaks are coming out of him. Then, after a good minute has passed, he straightens up lazily, like nothing ever happened. "Oh, yeah. Don't mention it." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, anything that isn't Magnus/Julia feels like a corruption of a beautiful thing but me writing anything else doesn't make it LESS canon so hell if ya'll want to see more snippets of magnus stuff (there are some w/ Rowan) fucking comment and lemme know


	21. Wally West, Mpreg, Dubcon groping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wally's a pregnant hostage and Icicle Jr touches a boob.

 

"Okay, so... They left the  _literally_  bi-polar ice guy in charge of keeping me alive? That's... reassuring." Wally's about two seconds from attempting the impossible and trying to vibrating his molecules out of these ropes, but he's not sure he's that desperate yet. It doesn't help that he keeps having this really nasty mental image of the kid phasing right out of his stomach if he tried that and it actually worked. Think John Hurt in the OG Alien movie, but even messier.

 

"Aww, what? You scared or somethin'?" Junior looms over him and Wally winces. How can a guy with snowflake-breath have such bad halitosis? "Don't worry. I'm not gonna hurt you.  _Yet._ " 

 

"Ooh, real original!" Wally groans, slouching back against his chair. "If you're gonna be the one on  'hostage' duty, could you at least quit it with the Hollywood one-liners? They're giving me a headache."

 

"What? You want me to change the subject?" Junior's gaze goes up and down Wally's whole body, and he can't put his finger on  _why_ , but it looks super familiar. And...  _creepy._   "Cuz, uh... I got a couple of things I could talk about." 

 

Wally just squints, staring dumbly. "... What?" 

 

"Hey, a guy gets lonely in Belle Reve!" Junior leans over him and Wally leans back right as he does that, hunching into his shoulders. "You're not  _exactly_  a chick, but... hey! Close enough." 

 

Wally's voice cracks. "Close enough for what!?" 

 

"That depends..." Icicle's smaller hand glides over his stomach and then digs into one side of his chest. Wally yelps. Well, he kind of does. He tries to yelp, but he chokes at the same time, and it's really raspy and horrified, so it doesn't sound like much. "Why don't we... see where the evening takes us."

 

Wally finally gets a hold of himself, lifting his leg as much as he can before his thigh runs into the little speed bump that is his stomach, and kicking Junior square in the... Well, the  _snowballs._  Guess he's not that cold-blooded, cuz he stumbles back and crumples as soon as Wally lands the blow. 

 

Icicle lifts his head, panting and glaring for a second before he smiles. Wait. Why is he smiling? What the heck's going on here? Wally watches as the guy pants a little, then finally growls out, "Feisty. I like that." 

 

Wally just gawks, letting out a deadpan,  _"Dude."_


	22. Wally/Conner, Mpreg, Kryptonian Rut, Dub-Con

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I'm a little hazy on archive warnings honestly? if you guys think I should change this to explicit or if it's fine as "mature" lemme know.

"Uh, dude?" Wally's trying not to freak out-- he really is-- but there's not a lot that _isn't_ weird about Conner being in his room, out of nowhere, in the middle of the night. "What are you doing?"

 

Conner just grumbles under his breath and Wally stares, then drops his head so he can knead at his forehead. "Okay, didn't catch a word of that!" He sighs, flopping over onto his side, since that's the only way he can sleep these days. "Whatever's wrong with you, can we talk about it in the morning? Because I'm  _so_  not in the mood right now."

 

Closing his eyes and acting like he's definitely already asleep, he waits for the telltale sound of Conner shutting his door. When that doesn't happen, he frowns in annoyance, then yelps when he feels the mattress sink down thanks to Conner getting on it. "DUDE! Come on!" Wally sits up clumsily, trying to figure out what the guy's even trying to do here, since apparently he's taken on a vow of silence. "What's your problem?"

 

"'S nothing." Conner's voice comes out all gruff, but really quiet at the same time. And being quiet isn't really Superboy's forte, so Wally's kind of freaked out. 

 

"If it's nothing, why are you in here? Uh, scratch that. Why are you in here,  _and_  sitting on my bed,  _and_ coming clos-- " He's crawling towards Wally, and out of nowhere, he just pounces on him. Yelping, Wally hunches down, yanking the covers up to his chin. "Snap out of it!" He swallows, wincing. "A-Are you under mind control or something? I mean, I know we were never _best_  friends, but there's gotta be something you don't hate about m-- _AH!"_  

 

Just like that, Conner bites him. Like, clamps onto his shoulder _hard_. He's pushing Wally down against the mattress, and Wally hunches his shoulders and screws his eyes shut, panting from the pain. For just a split second, he thinks this has to be Conner's really weird way of slowly killing and torturing him, but then he feels the way Superboy's rutting his hips and his stomach drops. "G-Get... off!" 

 

Conner clamps down harder, looping an arm around Wally's back and pulling him up, slipping his knees under Wally's butt so he's forced to spread his legs. There's not a lot of room between them, thanks to Wally's stomach, but Conner doesn't seem to care. He finally stops gnawing on Wally's shoulder, and mumbles a quick, conflicted, "sorry" before burying his face against Wally's neck. Conner's not even bothering to pull his pants down, just dry humping against him. There's the sound of deep, sharp inhaling, and Wally might be crazy, but he thinks Conner might be smelling him. Shoving at the guy uselessly, Wally hears himself start to pant again. The more Conner's groin gets pushed against him, even through his jeans, the more times that one spot gets hit and Wally squeaks, wincing and shuddering, starting to feel helplessly turned on. 

 

Is it... Is it super weird that he wants this to happen? He's horny basically constantly, and it feels like he's sixteen again, but a million times worse, because jerking off is way too hard with his gut in the way. And even when he thinks about Conner and M'Gann, and whatever they used to have, and how he should be doing something like this with a girl, specifically _Artemis_ , and he definitely shouldn't be the one getting grinded on... It should make him sick! He should be able to throw Conner across the room from sheer, grossed-out adrenaline alone! But none of that seems to get through. Those thoughts are a million miles away, or, at least, way less important than the idea getting off however he can. He hears Conner fumbling with his belt, and after a moment of sheer panic, Wally feels his own hands tugging his sweats down. A second later, Conner pushes in, and Wally yelps-- it feels so weird, and it  _hurts_ , and there's this super uncomfortable pressure, and _wow_ , what the hell is that? Do all dicks feel like this or does Superboy have some weird, Kryptonian anatomy Wally never thought about looking into before this exact moment? 

 

But then, Conner changes the angle, and Wally flat out whimpers. It's like his brain flipped an "off" switch. Conner's hitting that one, perfect spot, and Wally's about to explode. He paws at Conner's back stupidly, the other boy arched over him like they're a couple of big cats on a nature show. Conner's basically  _humping_  him, Wally's got his ass in the air as the other boy grinds into him, and he's so hard it honestly hurts. All he can think is he wants _more_ ; whatever Conner's doing to him, he wants it to go on forever. If this is what it feels like to be a chick, the humiliation can wait-- Conner can fuck his _brains_  out.

 

Finally, Wally's over that final hill, and he's twitching against Conner like he's having a bunch of tiny, fast, mini-seizures. It felt so good-- it _feels_ so good-- he can't even get embarrassed over the way his heavy, swollen chest keeps jiggling every time he shakes. Okay, no. The fog's starting to clear, and he feels super gross now, especially when he thinks about how he was probably bouncing all over the place a second ago. But Conner doesn't seem to be feeling the same way. He collapses next to Wally like a bag of wet cement, face-down on the mattress, one arm slung lightly over Wally's dome of a belly. 

 

"Conner?" Wally swallows, glancing at the guy out of the corner of his eye. "SB?" 

 

Conner answers with a loud, drawn out snore.

 

"... Crap." 


	23. Wally/Artemis, Mpreg, Femdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artemis has kinda turned Wally into a pillow princess. Also Arty's bi as hell and has a big pregnancy kink

"Uh, babe?"

 

Wally's not a shy guy by nature, but he still doesn't do a great job pretending to be one. Artemis has to stop herself from rolling her eyes when he leans forward a little, giving her the worst puppy dog face she's seen in a while. "Would you mind, uh... "

 

Artemis snorts, easing down next to him. "C'mere." She pulls him close, gingerly kneading at the big baby's spine, looking for any tense or knotted muscles so she can work at them. For somebody as dead set on hating being pregnant, and hating being doted on, Wally sure did come around fast. Okay, granted, Artemis has been spoiling him a little, but who could blame her? He's just so cute like this! She knows guys get all hormonal and attached when their wives are pregnant, and she's pretty sure either the reverse of that situation, or a role-swapped version, is what's happening with her and Wally. But hey-- if she has to lose a tiny bit of her brain function to keep Wally from having a meltdown, she'll take that deal. Mostly because she's a good girlfriend, but also... 

 

All right, so she's only human! And when she says Wally's cute like this, she does  _not_  mean it in the most kosher, PG-13 sense. 

 

"How's 'widdle' Wally?" She moves her hand across Wally's side, then rubs gingerly at his belly. He really is getting huge, but she knows he'll start pouting if she mentions it.

 

Wally makes a face. "Was that a fat joke?" And then, just as observant as ever, he gets it a second too late. "Oh! You meant the kid! Heh. I knew that." He wriggles against the couch, throwing his arms over the top. That ultra-boyish, fraternity member pose, along with his baby belly and well-endowed bust... It just looks so goofy! Artemis has to laugh.

 

"What?" Wally's grinning, too, so he's obviously not mad. He gives Brucely, who's lying on the cushion next to him, a light shove, even though he's out like a light, and obviously not gonna move. "Hey! Brucely! Go to your bed. Mommy and daddy are busy."

 

Artemis chuckles, still petting Wally's stomach. "More like 'mommy and mommy'." 

 

Wally squirms a little. "Hey! You're supposed to be nice to me, remember?" 

 

"I am being nice to you!" Artemis insists, pulling Wally towards her a little more. He gives a moody sniffle, but clumsily gets onto her lap without her even having to ask. "See?" She kisses at the side of his neck, slipping a hand under the hem of his boxers and grabbing his length for one, teasing second before moving her fingers lower, feeling eagerly at those slick folds. Wally whines a little, so she wraps an arm around his back, helping to hold him at the right angle. "Heh. You're getting so big." 

 

"I try not to th-think about it, but--" Wally takes a shuddering gasp, hips giving a feeble little jerk. "Y-Yeah." 

 

Artemis buries her face in his shoulder, heart pounding. She keeps feeling for that one spot that'll drive him crazy, and when she finds it, she rolls her thumb lavishly before slipping a finger inside. "It's cute." Damn it, it's hard to keep her voice steady. She's still trying to get Wally off, but seeing him like this is driving her nuts! The shivering, the little noises, the belly, the _boobs_ \-- hell, ever since he got pregnant, she swears he even _smells_ sweeter. 

 

Wally squeaks, still babbling as she adds another finger. "Y-You are into some... weird stuff."

 

Artemis laughs again. "Lucky for you, huh?" She stops making little circular motions and starts stroking up in quick, steady movements, letting Wally buck against her hand. It doesn't take long for Wally to hit his peak, but knowing him, he'll want to go again in another twenty minutes. Thankfully, Artemis knows just how to get to him, and how to get to him fast. Before long, he's going limp and shaking against her, clinging to her and holding his breath as the aftershocks run through him. He's never been the lightest person, and he's only gotten heavier thanks to the baby, but Artemis doesn't have much trouble holding him up. Especially not for this kind of payoff. 

 

Groaning, Wally slides off her lap, still clinging to her as he nuzzles against her neck. 

 

Smirking, Artemis pets his hair, giving a sing-song, "Spooooiiiled."

 

Wally shakes his head, already half asleep as he mumbles, "Totally... doesn't count. You were way into it, too." 


	24. Mom Wally + Baby M'Gann, Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU where Wally has a little baby M'Gann because why not. IDFK shit about Martian abilities and whether they have them from birth, but in this AU M'Gann can't shapeshift until she's a little older. Also may or may not use telepathy to talk , doesn't really matter.

"Mama, I'm scawed." 

 

It's pretty dark in here, so Wally feels safe rolling his eyes. Besides, even if Megan's poking around his brain, she's too little to know what "rolling your eyes" even means! Well-- hopefully. Anyway, Wally could've guessed pretty easily that Megan's scared, since she's clinging to him with all four limbs and she's still got her face buried in his chest. Seriously! He knows she doesn't technically need the stuff, but she hasn't come up for air in like an hour!

 

"Scared of what? That movie?" He strokes her head gently, letting out a tiny snort when she nods all slow and careful.

 

"I dinnit wike da a-wee-in," she whispers, then peeks up at Wally miserably. She doesn't really have a lot of expressions, mostly just "neutral" and "really sad", and "the maddest toddler in the world". And right now, it's the middle one. "He wook... scaw-ee." 

 

Wally cocks an eyebrow. Okay, he gets that letting her watch even five seconds of that movie was a really bad idea _now_ , but at the time, he thought the Xenomorph might look familiar enough to not creep her out! Boy, was he wrong. "Oh. Yeah?"

 

Megan nods again, then mumbles in her most pleading voice, "Dewe isn't... wea-wwy a-wee-ins wike dat, is dewe?" 

 

Wally studies her for a second. Long, spindly limbs? Yep. Weird shaped head? Totally. And funny, sorta skeletal teeth... Those're there, too. "Uh... Probably not." He already did one dumb parent thing today, he's not gonna make it worse by saying there totally could be Xenomorphs floating around in space somewhere, or that Megan kinda looks like a white version of one. "And even if there were, you've got the whole Justice League to protect you. And, hey, even more impressive: you've got  _me_." 

 

Megan sighs. "Otay." 

 

Suddenly, a couple of seconds later, alarms go off in Wally's head. "Oh! But, uh... Just 'cuz somebody looks scary, it doesn't mean they're automatically bad, okay?"

 

Megan stares up at him for a second. "Mama, he ate pee-pow." 

 

"See?" Wally nods sagely. "That's exactly what I'm saying! You judge somebody by their actions, not by how they look." 

 

Megan lets out a little giggle, and one of these days, Wally's gonna have to get his heart checked out because it always gets this scary, tight feeling when he hears her laugh like that "You'we siwwy." 

 

Wally laughs, too. "You know it, babe." Squeezing her tight, he nuzzles into her funny, mushroom-cap head. Yeah, he has to admit it-- he's totally nailing this parenting thing.


	25. Lance/Lotor, Concubine, slight dub con, mention of mpreg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wowee no actual mpreg in this one for once? whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Lance isn’t feeling too good. At first, he thought he’d be fine— he'd just wait for the chance to strike, show Lotor and his generals the old flawless Voltron strategy, then break out of the ship with guns (okay, gun, singular) a-blazing, already on his way back to Red, and Allura, and the rest of the team! But he tried, a couple times, and once the huge chick with the pink mullet knocked him out, and the other time Lotor grabbed him by the neck and held him there til he thought he might  _pass_ out. Both times, he found himself back in his “chambers”, dressed in something that… Okay, well, an outfit that, if he saw a girl wearing it, he’d probably think he'd died and gone to heaven, but on him, it’s just…

 

Well, Lance has to admit, he pulls it off pretty darn well, all things considered, but he still doesn’t really want to be wearing it, even if Lotor admittedly got his colors right. But the way he’s dressed… it’s like Lotor wants to pretend Lance is a girl or something! Which is insane, because who could pretend somebody as rugged and roguishly good-looking as Lance was a  _girl?_  No offense to girls, they’re great (even Lotor’s posse, and Lance is saying that despite all the different times they threw him back into his room like a wet cat), it’s just that Lance totally isn’t even close to  _being,_ or wanting to be, female.

 

He’s sitting on the bed, bored out of his mind, when Lotor comes in. Which is weird, because, up until this point, Lance sort of figured Lotor was just keeping him for display purposes only. Like, maybe one of the many mirrors this place has is two-way glass, and he just liked to eyeball Lance every once in a while like an exotic fish. But here he is, in the flesh and smirking like the cat that got the cream, and Lance feels a very specific, very nervous stomach-droppy feeling.

 

“You know, at first your escape attempts were so  _annoying_ ,” Lotor drawls, “but they’ve more or less come full circle. They’re rather entertaining, actually. I’m starting to look forward to them.”

 

“Yeah, well…” Lance swallows, scooting up against the pillows as Lotor climbs onto the foot of his big, super-expensive canopy bed. “You’re  _purple_.”

 

“Scathing.” Lotor smirks. “Is that a common insult on Earth?” Lance swallows, feeling like the breath got knocked out of him as Lotor brings one clawed hand up to cup his cheek. “I doubt it. After all, you Earthlings are all such lovely, warm tones. It’s so exotic.”

 

“H-Hey, could you not do that thing where you touch me?” Lance gulps again, trying to inch back even more, only to have his heart jerk nervously when he realizes he’s pinned up against the headboard. “It really creeps me out.”

 

“Well, then,” Lotor says, and before Lance can blink, one of his hands is digging into Lance's hip. “Allow me to ease your mind. I think you’ll find it’s quite difficult to think when you’re in the throes of…” He licks his lips. Seriously! He actually does that, like he’s a Saturday morning cartoon villain! “Oh, you’ll see.”

 

Suddenly, Lotor’s creepy lips are on Lance’s shoulder, and the hand that was cupping his cheek slips under his bandeau thingy, thumb pressing against his nipple before starting to rub in slow, lavish circles. Lance hiccups, the muscles in his legs tensing as he brings his knees together dumbly. Okay. Okay, so… He… kinda likes how this feels! Like, a  _lot_. Lotor’s… really good at this, apparently. But Lance is still into girls! And not guys, and especially not Lotor. But… Lotor’s sort of like a girl, right? He’s got long, silky hair, with no split ends, and full eyelashes. So it actually  _is_  okay if Lance likes this, because, again, it’s basically happening with a girl.

 

“Do you like that?” Lotor murmurs, adding a little more pressure with his thumb. Lance shivers, letting out a slight (manly!) whimper, biting his lip  _hard_  when Lotor grabs onto his length for one painful, teasing second, before moving his hand lower, sliding a finger inside Lance without any warning. Lance really does yelp at that—it  _hurts_ , and he wasn’t expecting it for even a second—but way too fast (especially for Lance’s pride), it starts to feel good again. Too good. Lance needs a little more. Lotor seems to take the hint, sucking at the side of Lance’s neck and adding another finger. Out of the corner of his eye, Lance can see Lotor bucking his hips, like he can't hold himself back all the way, and before he can stop himself, Lance mirrors the motions. When Lotor speaks again, he’s noticeably more out of breath, but not any less of a jerk. “S-So impatient. That’s… all right. I’ll  _teach you_  some manners”

 

Lotor eases out of his pants and loops an arm under Lance’s waist, lifting him so his rear’s in the air. Just like that, something presses against Lance’s entrance briefly before getting pushed roughly inside him. Lance cries out again; the pain’s  _way_  worse this time, but after a couple seconds, the sensation’s gotten way better, too. He’s practically crying, throwing his arms around Lotor’s neck without even thinking, rutting his hips and leaning his chest desperately into Lotor’s hand the second he starts playing with his nipple again. Every part of him’s so sensitive and full of need, but the strongest voice in his head is begging Lotor to keep going, to keep pushing in harder and deeper…

 

Lance needs this. He needs to be  _fucked_. And yeah, Lance isn’t exactly the type of guy to use that sort of language, but it’s so true, it almost hurts. He’d do anything to make sure this keeps happening, and he doesn’t even register what Lotor says when he leans down and whispers, “You’ll be…  _nn_ … so lovely when you’re full with my child.” After he says that, he jerks up into Lance even harder, and Lance swears his vision goes white. 

 

That’s it—he’s totally done. Overwhelmed, wiped out,  _terminado._  He spasms and shudders violently, hips jerking on their own as he tries to spread the feeling out for as long as he can. Feels like a part of him just leaves his body for a second, and when it gets sucked back inside, Lance is lying there, totally spent and limp and exhausted, Lotor grunting and digging his fingers into Lance as he finishes, too.

Everything’s quiet for a second, and Lance’s brain doesn’t seem to want to work. But, after a minute, Lotor finally moves, clambering over Lance and brushing his bangs aside so he can kiss him sweetly on the forehead.

 

“Oh,” he whispers, “I can tell. You’re going to be my  _favorite.”_


	26. Peter/Marco, Mpreg, Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some age diff stuff here, obviouussslyyy, so heads up if that bugs ya

"For the record, I'm still not buying that this is a good idea." Peter swallows, inching closer to Marco anyway.

 

"We gonna do somethin' or what?" The big guy's got this weird leer on his face, and Peter doesn't really like to throw around the phrase 'face of a thug'—turns out it's kind of a sensitive topic for Marco. Who knew?—but right now, Peter almost feels like he's about to get mugged. Actually, you know what? He might take that over what's about to happen, depending on how it turns out.

 

"You know I'm in high school, right?" Peter takes a deep breath, then clambers onto Marco's lap, and even though he's trying super hard not to let it happen, he can feel his face getting red as he struggles to move himself. "I'm totally used to peer pressure, so that's not gonna work. Got a plan B?" 

 

"Hey, hey—Quit it with the smart mouth act, all right?" Marco reaches out and pushes his thumb up against Peter's chin. He doesn't even do it with a lot of force, but that's all it takes to close Peter's mouth. As he sits there, blinking dumbly, it hits Peter that Marco's hand on its own is way bigger than his head, easy. 

 

"Heh. Glad you're on my side." Okay, now he has to... He's gotta act  _not_ clueless. Easier said than done, though. Peter's no slouch in the educational department; he's seen plenty of anatomy books, he's... watched a few things online after he double, triple,  _quadruple_  checked that Aunt May was totally and completely out of the house. He's seventeen! It's normal. It's just... Reading about stuff and actually doing stuff are two totally different things. Peter's read plenty of comic books, too—or he used to, anyway, when he was a kid. But not a lot of the comic book stuff transferred over to his real, superhero life, and yeah, that's  _so_  not the best example, but it works for what Peter's trying to say here. 

 

And what he's  _trying_ to say is knowledge does not equal experience. He's just hoping Marco's prepared to be... disappointed.

 

Marco leans down and kisses him, and Peter swears, he's gotten so good at projecting a human form, it feels just like kissing a regular person. Almost like he's kissing MJ, or Gwen... Uh, no. Wait. Bad idea. He's not gonna think about them right now. He just lifts his arms and timidly feels at Marco's giant chest, giving a conflicted squirm. There's a little more give to him than you might expect for a normal person, but other than that, he's warm, he feels strong and soft, and it's pretty easy for Peter to turn his brain off and stop over analyzing. For a second, anyway. Marco feels at Peter's side, then grabs his hip roughly, digging his fingers in. Peter's way too aware of how that part of him's been changing, along with the rest of his body. The really cold, scientific half of his brain almost wants to document it, and write every little weird detail down, but mostly, he'd rather not think about it at all.

 

Marco sure seems to like it, though. He keeps squeezing Peter's hip on and off, and then his hand ghosts over Peter's swollen stomach and up to his chest, digging in and kneading at him for a bit before pressing one giant thumb-pad down, roughly rubbing against his nipple. Peter squeaks, and suddenly, even though he was just about ready to call it off from how gross all that attention was making him feel, that one gesture pushes him over the edge. The good feeling starts outweighing how insecure he is (and that's saying a lot), and suddenly, Peter's just whining stupidly, confused and desperate to get himself some relief, but not really sure how—not sure  _what's_  gonna be good enough to get him there.

 

"Kay. This... a-ain't gonna feel great at first, but bear with me." Sounds like Marco's a million miles away. Peter buries his face in the guy's shoulder, bucking his hips dumbly as Marco yanks down his sweats with one hand, his other giant arm struggling around Peter's legs as the big guy tries to get his own boxers down. Then, suddenly, there's this feeling so weird: something pressing against him, then into him, and it's so intense and painful, and plain uncomfortable that Peter wants to stop right then and there. He whimpers and shakes his head, trying to squirm away from Marco, but Marco presses down on his shoulder, forcing him to hold still for a second. He gives the slightest jerk of his hips, and Peter yelps, biting his lip and deciding this was the worst idea he's ever had in his life. Marco gears up to do it again, and Peter tries to shove him and clamber off him, but he doesn't do it in time. Marco thrusts up at a different angle, and Peter freezes completely before he moans, shivering.

 

It's... 

 

It's the best thing Peter's ever felt in his life. He thinks there might be tears in his eyes, honestly, and it's all he can do not to pass out, clinging to Marco's shoulders, slumped against him, every muscle in his body tense and shaky as Marco grinds into him again and again. Peter feels himself getting worked towards that peak, and even though the waiting's totally unbearable, the idea of not dragging out this sensation for as long as possible is way worse. Panting raggedly, Peter tries to roll his hips a little as he finally peaks, coaxing himself to move along with the shock waves. Feels like his brain shuts off for a while there. He hits that perfect... lightning bolt of a moment, and then shakes a lot, slumping one last time against Marco and going totally limp. 

 

"There." Marco's out of breath, too, but Peter wonders if that's just a leftover habit from when he was human. "Can't make any more virgin jokes now, right?"

 

Peter shakes his head, laughing almost nervously. It's really crazy, and stupid, especially when he thinks about what they just did, but he feels almost...  _shy_  around Marco. "I have one thing to say to you, and one thing only." He sighs, burying his face against Marco's neck. "You better not have gotten any sand... Um. Anywhere important." 

 

And with that, Marco laughs harder than Peter's ever heard. 


	27. Thor, Mpreg, Childbirth, delivery man Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Loki is an okay brother but a very bad midwife. implied bruce/thor

 “This is all  _your_  fault!” Loki seethes.

“I-If you’re going to be that way, j-just…  _don’t even bother helping!”_   Thor grunts through gritted teeth.

“Are you kidding me?” Loki starts pacing, mopping at his sweaty brow. “I don’t want to rule these idiots! Oh, sure, sure, back on Asgard, I was a  _born_  king. But all this nonsense about moving to Midgard? That’ll take  _effort!_  I have more important things to do than listen to some sniveling townspeople moan about how they can’t find any trustworthy place to store their gold plated  _baby boots._  That’s supposed to be your job!” He just about rips a chunk of his hair out before he realizes what a disgusting travesty that would be. Instead, he drops down next to Thor’s side, glaring at him bitterly. “And if you die, that responsibility will fall on my shoulders.” He ghosts his fingers over his chin thoughtfully. “Although, perhaps I could make that drunk lunatic you found on Saakar a sort of… stand-in.”

“LOKI!” Thor bellows, thumping one foot on the ground like he’s disciplining a child.

“Oh,  _shut up!_ ” Loki snaps. “You aren’t dying! You just have to… push that thing  _out_  of yourself. Can’t be that difficult. I can think of something relatively similar most of us do every single day.”

“You did  _not_  just compare this to—“ Thor cuts himself off with another moan, hunching forward. “Ohh. Ohh, that one felt very bad. I th-think it’s really coming!”

“What? And it wasn’t  _before?!”_ Loki stands in a panic. “I’m not cut out for this, you know! Don’t blame me if you end up dying.”

Thor shakes his head, then glowers at Loki. “C-Come over here.”

“No!” Loki scuttles backwards.

“I said, come over here!  _Now!”_

“I won’t!” Loki yelps. “You’re going to hit me.”

“Yes, because you…  _grrnnn…”_ Thor pauses to groan in pain. “Y-You deserve it!”

“No, I don’t!” Loki growls. “You’re the one who let this happen! You and that…  _whore_ , Banner.”

“It doesn’t matter how it happened,” Thor growls. “Something…  _nnn…_  else… much more important... is happening now!”

“Fine! If it’ll shut you up, I’ll…” Loki swallows, grimacing in distaste before inching forward and grabbing Thor’s hand. The way one might grab an animal that may or may not be dead, but will probably bite if it isn’t. “There. Happy?”

Thor rolls his eyes. “ _Overjoyed.”_

“Ah. Sarcasm.” Loki snorts. “Turns out, you do have  _some_  intelligence after all. Not enough to keep from defying nature and managing to become impregnated, but enough to be sarcastic at the most useless moment possible.” He leans forward, murmuring condescendingly, “You’ll be a  _wonderful_  mother.”

He then howls as Thor squeezes his hand hard enough to break bone.

 


End file.
